


Manipulation - Dream SMP

by wherenovelsgotodie



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), dreamnotfound - Fandom, mcyt
Genre: 2020 L'Manberg Election on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dream Team SMP Lore (Video Blogging RPF), F/M, Gen, L'Manberg | L'Manburg on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), M/M, Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Minecraft, Minor Violence, Other, Pre-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Romance, Teen Romance, Teenagers, The Disc War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherenovelsgotodie/pseuds/wherenovelsgotodie
Summary: “No,” Dream grabs George’s shirt collar. “It’s the beginning.” He cracks a smile, a small laugh escapes from his lips. His face lies inches from George’s, and as the words slip like a snake from his mouth, George’s face responds with a plastered grin.“It’s the beginning.” He giggles, repeating Dream’s words out loud.“We’ll do it better.” George confirms.Dream lets out a howl into the night air, the flames encompass the lights in the boys’ eyes as the ivory of the Moon becomes lost, every decision now made is made with that passionate flame grown steady in their hearts.*realistic novel based on the content provided from the storyline of the Dream SMP*- ALSO I just want to put out here that the novel is written about the CHARACTERS on the dream smp, NOT the content creators!
Relationships: Dream/GeorgeNotFound, Niki | Nihachu & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	1. The Untouchables

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! please read I think it's gonna be cool hehe! I'm basically righting a realistic novel based on the events of the dream smp. Let me know what ya think! :)
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> Willow - Taylor Swift

Chapter One - The Untouchables

The Sun was warm on that blistering summer day, the grass greener than all the days before it had seemed. Dream’s fingers sifted aimlessly through the soft grass he laid in, his eyes closed as he thought.  
His mind drifted drearily around the spinning desires that held his mind captive. To him, the days went by just because they went by. There was no seizing, no profound clarities, no ideas. Yet, sitting there in the sun, though he felt utterly alone, the world stopped for a moment. He liked being alone like this. It kept him from meddling.  
In an instant, Dream’s moment of peace came clashing to an end as a scream ran out through the woods. He bolted upwards. George. He grabbed his sword that had sat still by his side, and suddenly he was sprinting through the woods. Branches and leaves swept past his arms and legs, and he almost felt invincible like that.  
As he entered a small clearing, he spotted him, leaning idly against a tree grasping his right arm. His left hand was bloody and caked in a covering of mud.  
“What are you doing?” Dream exasperated, huffing out breaths of panic and relief.  
“I missed.” He pointed into the trees, bouts of sunlight streaming through caught his eyes. Dream squinted to see a pig chewing on leaves in the distance. “I shot at it, but I slipped and my arm got caught on rock.” George moved his hand from his other arm, revealing a large scar. Dream rolled his eyes.  
“I thought you had died, dumbass.” He punched George’s shoulder, and George stumbled backwards with laughter.  
Dream snatched the bow out of George’s hands and lifted an arrow out of his quiver. George was such a fool sometimes. He took a deep breath, and his eyes narrowed as he locked in on the pig. As he took his breath, he felt his stare grow cold, no room left for the warmth from the Sun. He followed its movements carefully, and as he dropped his hand from the string, the tips of his fingers protruding from his gloves swept gracefully, grazing past his cheek as the arrow sliced straight through the pig’s heart.  
He reaches for George’s hand, he’s stuck clumsily on the ground, and lifts him upward. “Come on, let’s go.”

“What the hell happened?” Sapnap scrunches his brows at the sight of George and Dream. The boys were now back at their base after a long day of hunting and messing around. It wasn’t much at the moment, nothing more than a couple small tents, some tables for preparing food, and the scaffolding of an unbuilt house. Lately, filling up the days doing mindless tasks helped ease the tension of the past few months. It’s insane, how fast things change from what they once were.  
“George was just being stupid.” Dream teases as he props the pig onto one of the outside tables.  
“Whatever, I just wasn’t focused.” George looks at Dream’s back with disgust.  
“Woah, woah, are we fighting now? What the hell happened to the ‘dream team’? C’mon guys.” Sapnap grabs George’s forearm to look at the cut. Dream feels a pang of anger rush in him at the mention of the old name they had for themselves. He had told them not to say it anymore.  
“It wasn’t a fight, shut up.” Dream states blankly as he begins to clean and gut the pig. His movements grow short and stiff. There’s silence for a while. Sapnap goes inside to grab cleaning supplies for George’s wound.  
It was a hard adjustment, going from an entire kingdom down to three unqualified boys in a single instant. As the nights consumed them now, there were always moments where no one quite knew what to do, or who to look towards.  
As Dream finished preparing the meat, he began building the fire for the night as Sapnap helped clean and wrap George’s cut. It had mostly stopped bleeding now. He made a mental note to remember to not drift off without George anymore.  
The boys continued on cooking the meat and helping prepare for the night in a broken silence, though no one spoke, it was apparent that it wasn't out of tension or fear towards each other. The atmosphere that settled around them as the stars started to appear in the sky was calming. No one was there within miles except for them, and though they felt lonely in each others’ company, they couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous the world now seemed as their minds finally began to clear themselves.  
The stillness of the night continued as George broke the quiet conversations, “I’m sorry.” He laid facing upwards on his back against a log, his fingers fidgeting with loose strands at the end of his bandages.  
The other boys were laying on their backs as well, and they turned their heads as George spoke his sudden apology.  
“What?” Sapnap asked, his mouth full of food.  
“I feel like, well. I feel like after everything happened, we really needed a leader, and I was supposed to be that leader. But, I just, I’m bad at it.”  
“No one expects you to make everything better, George. It’s not all your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. It’s not up to anyone.” Dream said quietly. That was the beauty of it, that it wasn;t up to anyone anymore.  
“But I’m…” His voice fell out. He realized what he was going to say, though true in the past, now held no value to any of the boys at all.  
“Nobody was ready for any of this. We all just need to stick together, we can make it through as a team. We’ll build a new kingdom. One even better than the one before, and maybe we can all be kings one day.” Dream smiled at the thought, a crown would look better on his head than the mask did. It was nice to at least imagine.  
“But don’t you… feel guilty at all?” George’s voice quivers.  
“There’s nothing to be guilty about.” Sapnap scolds sternly and taps his foot.  
The boys continue eating, staring at the stars and avoiding each other's eyes as the time sinks by faster and faster.  
“I could really go for a drink right now.” George scoffs, distaste left in his mouth from eating bland scraps for days. Memories flood in of large buffets and the endless mounds of deserts of all kinds he used to take for granted. Most nights he wouldn’t even indulge in the things offered to him. He grows angry at himself.  
“Actually… I think I might be able to help with that.” Sapnap smiles. He gets up abruptly, leaving to go inside to grab something. The light from the flames only reaches so far, and his silhouette fades from view.  
When he comes back, he’s got three bottles of hard liquor.  
“Sapnap!” Dream yells in disbelief. “You stole booze?!”

The boys roll around in fits of laughter, leaving their depressing thoughts of the past days behind them.  
The light from the sky grows darker and darker, now the only thing illuminating them is the small shimmers from the Moon and the raging heat of the fire in between them.  
They become giddy, punching each other and laughing, their cheeks flushed red despite the tips of their fingers being numb. They yell and roar around the fire, their armor laid on the logs around them, their weapons settled aimlessly on the ground.  
“I-I,” George laughs. “I still feel like what we did was wrong.” He erupts with laughter as the other boys fall quiet.  
“Why?” Dream yells. “We did the right thing! We’re heroes!” He opens his arms, his voice echoing, expressing his wingspan to the open night before them. His gloves stretch out into the night air, his fingertips cold despite the fire within him.  
“But what if we aren’t though?” George stops laughing. Sapnap drags down next to him. Dream refuses to sit down in such pity, suddenly becoming angry at the two.  
“Look around us, George.” His eyes harden. “What do you see?”  
“Trees?” George guesses, not sure what Dream’s on about.  
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Dream punches George straight across his jawline. George’s body falls to his right side, and he winces as he catches himself with his injured arm.  
“What the hell-”  
“It’s gone.” Dream shouts. “It’s fucking gone, George.” He’s screaming at the top of his lungs. “We’re the only ones out here, it’s just us!” Tears brim his eyes, and he doesn’t care that his mask is lying down along with his armor and weaponry, leaving him vulnerable to the depths.  
“Clay-” Sapnap tries to console.  
“No,” Dream states. He’s manic now, laughing and cursed with anger and tears. He was the peacemaker.  
“I’m sorry-” Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut. Such a stupid mistake.  
“We left that behind, Sapnap. We changed our names, we changed our lives. We did that. It’s gone- they’re gone. Those people we used to be? They’re gone.” His tone is sinister and his jaw tightens as his thoughts trace over the personalities of their past.  
“You’re right.” George whispers. “It’s over.”  
“No,” Dream grabs George’s shirt collar. “It’s the beginning.” He cracks a smile, a small laugh escapes from his lips. His face lies inches from George’s, and as the words slip like a snake from his mouth, George’s face responds with a plastered grin.  
“It’s the beginning.” He giggles, repeating Dream’s words out loud.  
“It’s the beginning.” Sapnap agrees, laughing along. The drunk fools come alive within the darkness.  
“It’s our land! We don’t carry scars anymore, we’re untouchable, don’t you guys see?” Dream turns out to look at the empty woods behind them. Nature stays in silence as the boys begin to shout and scream their lost sentiments and unspoken worries.  
“We built this!” Sapnap exclaims, gesturing to their small remnants of a house.  
“We’ll do it better.” George confirms.  
Dream lets out a howl into the night air, the flames encompass the lights in the boys’ eyes as the ivory of the Moon becomes lost, every decision now made is made with that passionate flame grown steady in their hearts.


	2. Beginnings - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter:
> 
> Fine Line - Harry Styles

Chapter Two - Beginnings Part 1

When the prince was a young boy, he never strayed from the silk skirt of his mothers side. During long discussions with hushed voices, the boy never really understood what any of the adults around him were on about. His grubby hands always grasped at his mother’s, constantly wanting to hold her hand from his craves of attention. He was a relatively happy child, bathed in such a promise, he never quite understood his surroundings, and thus was quite dazed by his realities.  
During the young Prince’s birth year, civil war struck upon the kingdom. Poor Prince George hadn’t even opened his eyes for long enough to see a day without bloodshed. For him, there wasn’t a life without hiding behind large walls of luxury in effort to overhear board meetings, or potentially grab an extra tart from the kitchen.  
He’d become so curious about the things these adults blabbered on about, as they'd always seem fine to him and then suddenly wouldn’t pay him any attention with the blink of an eye. What cruelty this was for him, how dare they refuse to treat him as the child he was? Often he believed he was neglected, overlapped by cakes and bath products. George knew these war meetings and the evil people from outside the walls had to be to blame, and so grew the beginning of young George’s accustomed hatred at the ground beneath him.  
As George grew older, he became more interested in the qualities of war. Almost obsessed, actually. He would often watch the nation’s men from the walls of the Kingdom in wonder for hours, perched on the top of his roof in his favorite spot. He wished that one day he could fight as valiantly as they had. He’d never been as strong as his older brother, who was the decided favorite for his natural fighting ability and inequitable charm George just couldn’t keep up with. George couldn’t help his mind wandering beyond walls, beyond where he stood in his boring safety. What was life, he thought, if it was just for existing? He pondered at what life might be if maybe he hadn’t been born the King’s second son.  
When George turned fifteen, the kingdom was near shambles from the years of continuous dread. Even the skies had forgotten what days felt like without the presence of smog.  
“George, at least try and look happy.” His brother teased, elbowing him in the stomach. George grew flustered and angry as he looked at the dusky sky above them. He’d become familiar with angrily scrunching his brows up at the dark crimson. His mother had insisted he go to his brother’s party to celebrate his upcoming coronation. For some reason he had immense struggle trying to find empathy for his brother ever since the news had been announced.  
“Whatever.” George crossed his arms and dramatically stomped away. He’d never truly grown out of being the childish younger sibling, but who could blame him? He decided to go find a spot to sit in the trees, to find some quiet away from the loud party full of smiling people who hadn’t really grown out of their old customs either. The sounds of celebration fueled the anger he wished would just go away.  
As he sat against that tree out there in the forest, he wondered if his Father would ever throw him a party like this one. Maybe one day, if he was lucky enough.  
Suddenly, he heard screams. His heart quicked and suddenly realized how stupid he had been to sit in such isolation, so exposed. With no one there to protect him, he suddenly felt an abandonment he had never experienced before. His silly precautions of dramatic eye rolls came to a stop. He jumped up and sprinted as quickly as he could.  
When George appeared at the scene panting heavily, his eyes grew horrified upon seeing flames in addition to the screams. His eyes darted everywhere, trying diligently to focus on what was going on. Yet the smoke caused his eyes to water, his mind couldn’t comprehend the burning smells of wood. The outsiders. The people from outside the wall, they were scrambling everywhere shouting like banshees, holding sticks with fire and covered faces in paint. His mind was engulfed with the reds, oranges, and the crimson color of blood.  
He made eye contact with his brother from about thirty feet away. He began to tremble and cry, suddenly realizing the dramatics of all those conversations those adults had been so worked up over. George stepped towards his brother, screaming internally for his feet to move so he could get to him, but he stopped as he saw the knife protrude from his brother’s stomach. He stood in horror, his brother looked at him with such hopeless eyes. That’s all he could describe it as, the utter hopelessness of his brother’s tears as he sank to the ground. He screamed.  
George felt someone pull him away abruptly.

*

“Hey! Look out!” A boy shouted. It was a hot day, nearly a year after his brother’s death, the water from streams gleamed back the brightness of the Sun above them. The smells were of summertime, stone, and old books.  
The Prince, now sixteen, sat underneath the overhang in the courtyard, reading one of the books his Mother had dropped outside his door that morning.  
George looked up suddenly to see an arrow flying straight by his head and let out a loud shriek.  
“Sorry.” The unfamiliar boy climbed over the wall and jumped down to meet the Prince where he sat by the overhang. He had on a strange mask, his hands were dirty with dried mud, and his clothes were ripped and used.  
“Oh my god- you almost killed me, what the hell?!” The Prince jumped up and down, pacing intensely.  
“Dude.” The masked boy chuckled. “Calm down it wasn’t gonna hit you. Why so scared? I’ve got good aim, you know.” Was he bragging? George rolled his eyes and picked up his book, standing to leave. The boy just stood still, watching him diligently from underneath his mask.  
“Do you even know who I am?” The Prince yelled.  
The boy scoffs. “No, you some rich kid I’m supposed to know? This is why I don’t hang out by the Palace, everybody here’s trapped in their own heads.” He starts to walk away. George hadn’t realized before, but after hearing his accent, he realized the boy was one of the outsiders.  
“Wait!” The Prince yells. “What’s up with that mask on your face?” He knew he shouldn’t have been toying, or even speaking to, any of them. Yet, the exemplified human-ness this kid had… it made him wonder.  
“Oh this? This is my warriors mask. I always fight better when I wear it.” He smiles proudly, just as a child would. George thinks about those days he used to spend admiring the men and their weapons and is reminded of that weakness his Father has always despised in him. He contemplates for a moment about the idiocracy of his next sentence.  
“Oh. Could, could you show me?” George asks.  
“Show you what?”  
“How to shoot that thing.” He points to the small uneven bow that lay in the boy's gloved hands. The boy laughs at him.  
“Sure.”  
“Ok.” They stare at each other. “I’m George.” The Prince reaches out his hand.  
“I’m Dream.” George makes a face at the weird name. Dream shakes George’s hand and immediately pulls him to the ground.  
“Hey!” He fumbles upwards as Dream laughs.  
“Rule number one- don’t trust anybody!” He sprints off and back over the wall. George has a large grin as he disregards the anxiety within his mind. He runs as fast as he can after the boy.

George and Dream spent a lot of time in each other’s company. After some time, Dream introduced George to his best friend—Sapnap. The boys spent nearly every day together, either training or just messing around, and some nights they would go and look at the stars from up on George’s roof in his old favorite spot. George was amazed at how good they were at fighting, and they were knowledgeable about the world in ways he’d never considered before. Though he always was cautious around them, they truly felt like a breath of fresh air after spending days within the toxicity of the palace.  
One night, the boys had decided to spend the night at George’s. His parents never really minded, after his brother’s death they almost never spoke to him anymore other than dropping books outside of his door or letting him know when meals were ready. It was sort of just an understanding they had. An understanding that George would never be his brother, and that was where their conversations ended. So, George usually just took advantage of the royalties he had, disregarding any sort of small responsibilities he was given, and Dream and Sapnap didn’t complain. It took him a long while to understand the two boys, he hadn’t understood his luxuries were even luxuries at all until watching his friends’ eyes grow wide at the foods he gave them, or seeing their excitement grow at having their own bed for a night, George started to grow confused by why his parents and others hated these people so much. They seemed more human than his parents had ever seemed, yet they were described to him as such monsters. His mind flashed to the red paint, and he decided to stop thinking about it.  
On nights like this one, they usually stay quiet. They weren’t the most talkative group, maybe due to their war calluses, or maybe because of their lack of sanity.  
Dream stood looking away from the two, throwing small stones off of the building into the sky. The atmosphere between them felt tense today, George felt there was something the two weren’t sharing with him.  
“Dream those are gonna hit someone you idiot.” Sapnap finally laughs. Dream shrugs him off, continuing to throw the rocks from the rooftop. Dream hadn’t taken his mask off today, or set his sword down.  
“Do you guys ever think about what it’d be like if you were born as someone else? I feel like so many problems would just go away.” George mumbles aloud in thought. They don’t reply right away, and he isn’t sure if they had even heard him at all; it was so faint. He wants more than anything to talk to at least someone about what had happened to his family all those months ago. He considers it might be best to remain in his solitude.  
“You mean born inside the walls like you? Yeah, I think about that a lot.” Sapnap says.  
“Really? I mean, it’s not that great here to be honest.”  
“Yeah.” Sapnap rolls his sleeves around his knuckles as the air chills. “That’s cause you haven’t seen the outside.” He looks away from George and back on the sunset.  
“Oh come on, there’s no way it’s that bad.” George breathes. Dream stops throwing his rocks, and it becomes quieter than before without the repetitive thumps.  
“George.” Dream says. “Do you know about the story of what happened to Prince Erin?” George's heart stops at the mention of his brother’s name. Suddenly, he feels unsafe, and his heart grows into that wheezing feeling it did when he had been sitting under that tree as he heard the screams.  
“Yeah. I know it.”  
“You know they do that to our people outside the walls too. With knives and fire and paint and all that.” Dreams fist clenches. All George can see is his back, it bothers him that he can’t see his face. “To our mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters. We’re slaughtered too.” His voice grows quiet. “My parents.”  
George feels confused by his words, unsure of where this conversation is headed.  
“The difference is we don’t have a castle to run home to after they’re murdered.” Dream ends.  
George’s heart sinks into his throat as he hears Dream’s voice encase the words. He suddenly notices the pain of his ignorance. It surprises him just how humanized the identified enemies truly are after seeming so full of bloodlust.  
“George?” Dream asks. George's eyes flicker with caution. Here it is, he thought, this is it. The same adrenaline he felt on that day rushed back to him. He feels the threatening nature of an ambush aimed at him.  
Dream walks up to him, and takes off his mask. George is surprised to see a large scar running diagonally down through his right eye that hadn’t been there yesterday.  
“Dream-”  
Dream meets his eyes with George finally, and George thinks for a moment he sees tears in his friend’s eyes. George’s heart beats faster and faster. He sits under his scarred gaze in fear and newfound empathy.  
His face is inches away as he whispers blankly to George, “You’re the prince, aren’t you?” George feels unbelievably bare. He wasn’t expecting that.  
After nearly an entire minute passes in silence, George nods yes.  
Dream sighs and drops his things onto the ground, the Sun has nearly set by now. He slumps down and rolls onto his back by George’s side, his arm resting over his stomach as he curls up on his side facing George. He closes his eyes as he senses George looking down at him, “Yeah. I thought so.” Dream whispers. After all these days as best friends, they’d never talked so seriously like this. George couldn’t believe his biggest secret had been uncovered so suddenly. It wasn’t something he thought would ever be discussed. He suddenly feels his cheeks go hot with embarrassment. Had he really thought that Dream was about to kill him just then?  
In his utter confusion, George barely notices as Dream starts crying quietly. The tears fall from his friend’s face with such lack of emotion, George feels his heart sink further for him. Dream doesn’t even make a sound as his heart falls onto the floor.  
George reaches to hold Dream’s hand, and looks away back at the sky. Dream opens his eyes for a moment and looks at his hand with curiosity. He closes his eyes once more, and George feels him squeeze his hand faintly.  
Sapnap glances between the two and gives a small smile before looking back to the sky. Such misery and dread was shed in this beautiful world. So beautiful, yet so heartbreaking at seemingly the same time.  
In that moment, George bagan to understand what they really were. Though spoiled at an ungodly level, George had never felt so close to anyone as he did towards Dream and Sapnap. That small shred of empathy he had started to recognize began to eat away slowly at his profound hatred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayup yall thought THAT was intense get ready for the next chapter 0_0


	3. Beginnings - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter:
> 
> As the World Caves In - Matt Maltese

Chapter Three - Beginnings Part 2

There were many things that George didn’t quite understand about his Father from his childhood, and so he spent his days playing with the boys from outside the walls more than he did with his own family. After his brother died, not only the kingdom changed, but George’s relationship with his father changed too. He always had such a disgusted look on his face when he looked at George, he hadn’t even tried to hide it.  
As George grew older, the boys grew closer. They found as much time as possible to go out and train or run through the woods and hunt together, sometimes they even got drunk together and laughed their arguments away. George even became almost as good as they were at killing. Yet, George’s duties loomed over him now that there was an absence of leadership in the castle. Now that he was eighteen, he spent his days in meetings, creating agendas, and helping with military strategies, now that his days as a mere boy had come to a close. Whether his Father was fond of the idea or not, George was his only son left, and so soon he would end up taking the throne.  
On a peculiar day, the Sun hidden within the clouds, Dream had called the boys to have an urgent meeting. It had just begun sprinkling.  
“The King is going to blow up the village. It’s some warning, to prepare for war.” Dream huffs to George and Sapnap as they take their seats around the courtyard. They always sat in that same square of rose bushes when something urgent needed to be discussed, as they gave the best cover from the guards.  
“No. I was in the war meeting with my father, he wouldn’t do that, I’m sure of it.” George says, frustrated with the sudden accusation. His Father was an evil person, but George couldn’t imagine he would go so far as to blow up his friends’ home.  
“I don’t think you know your father as well as you think you do.” Dream says. George is exasperated at Dream’s tone, and his immediate reaction is a scoff.   
“Shut up.” George pushes Dream backwards. “You don’t know anything!” He shouts, his hands balled into fists and his knuckles turn white. His Father wouldn’t do that. There’s a small voice in George’s head, a voice that whispers that maybe his friends weren’t as trustworthy as he believed. They were outsiders after all.   
“Guys-” Sapnap tries to calm the two, but the tension is unbalanced.   
“Why have I ever spent my time with you? You’re just some peasant, someone who’s meant to go fight in the war and die. Come on, you don’t know anything about the King’s plans.” George spits and turns his heel back on the conversation. He never expected such accusations to come from someone he thought was his best friend.  
Dream turns his heels on the ground, facing away, refusing to fight with George like this. He looked angrily down at his dirtied hands, his expression disgusted at his own friend.  
“Dream-” Sapnap starts.  
“No.” Dream pushes Sapnap away and leaves.

The night of the argument, George looks for his father in a fluster. He had to know if what Dream said had been true, if his father was truly going to blow up that village of innocent people as some warning.   
As George raised his fist to knock on the King’s door, he stopped upon hearing a chorus of hushed voices from inside.   
“Tomorrow night. It has to be tomorrow. Word is spreading, and if we don’t do it soon we’ll miss the chance, your majesty.” George peeks around the corner to get a glimpse at the men speaking in his Father’s bedroom.   
“Are you sure this is truly what’s needed to keep this country safe? To keep our world safe?” His father speaks.  
“Yes, sir. We believe this is the only way.” His father lets out a sigh.  
“Then we will detonate the village tomorrow night. Make plans immediately.”  
“Yes, your majesty.”  
George runs away from the door before they catch even a glimpse of him. He’d never felt so angry at himself before, how stupid could he really have been? He had to get moving quickly. As soon as he gets to a quiet spot outside the looming walls, he stops to think. He’s pained, full of dread more than ever before. Dream was right.

“Well then? What’s your plan?” George asks, out of breath from his run over. His face felt sharp from the cold air outside, and his hair was filled with droplets from the drizzling of rain outside. He had been to the house that Sapnap and Dream both shared once before, but he still grew uncomfortable being there outside the walls, especially at nighttime. It was an uncomfortable paint that had been ingrained into him since birth.  
“We get rid of the explosives, so that they can’t go through with it. And we destroy them, so they can’t be used.” Dream says.  
“Right, right. Sorry.” George’s hands tremble, he’s still shaken from overhearing the decisive words from his Father. He feels nervous that his friends might be wary of him after not considering his Father’s malice. He looks downwards at his shoes as his face flusters.  
“George.” Sapnap says, placing a hand on George’s shoulder. “It’s ok, man. We’re not gonna let anything bad happen.”   
Dream nods in agreeance, giving George an assuring smile.   
“So, do you know where the armory is kept inside the castle?”  
George nods.

*

“That door, just down there.” George points in the dimly lit corridor. He tugs at the black coat he’d thrown over himself, and uneasily paces back and forth, making sure no one followed them down.   
“Ok. Just as we planned, ok? We’ll get the most of it and we’ll dump it in the lake. Remember to work fast, there’s going to be a lot and we can’t risk getting caught.”  
“Right.” Sapnap agrees.  
“George?”  
George’s head snaps up out of his thoughts, “Yeah?”   
“Remember to cover for us if we get caught? You remember the plan?”  
“Yeah.” George says, feeling sweat building up on the back of his neck.   
Suddenly, Dream pulls him into a hug. George stands confused at first, but eventually gives in. He’s never seen Dream so fired up about something before. Somehow, this feels like it could be Dream’s revenge. His getting back for all the deaths.  
“It’s ok, we got this. Come on.” Dream says as he pulls out of the short embrace. George doesn’t quite know why, but it helps his nerves.  
As George fumbles the keys that he stole from his Father out of his pocket, Dream and Sapnap stand behind him ready with the bags.  
When they enter the room, they’re overwhelmed with just how large it is, even George himself had never been inside. George had known it was large, but not this much. He felt his heart sink at the abundance of explosives the kingdom had on hand, and he began to feel a more personal affiliation with this war.   
“Alright. Let’s go.”   
They got straight to work, filling handfuls of bags and boxes and loading them. They had started an assembly line to the door, and they’d nearly gotten all of it within an hour. As they cleared the explosives, it became clearer that the room they were in was a bunker, completely bomb proof. They gaped at the vastness of the dark ceiling.   
“Ok, George come help me start loading everything into the truck.” Dream said, beckoning George to come help him while Sapnap finished up in the bunker.  
Dream grabbed one of the torches on the wall to light the way through the corridor so they could see clearly in the night. Their hands were both covered in black soot and gunpowder.   
Dream walked slowly, his eyes fixed on the flame of the torch from behind his mask.   
“Dream?” George asked. He didn’t respond.  
“Dream.” George repeated. “Are you ok?”  
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Dream continues, feeling slightly dizzy. He pauses for another moment, and catches himself against the stone wall with his offhand.  
“Dream-” George exclaims.  
“I’m fine.” He coughs. “I think it’s just all the dust.” For a moment, Dream contemplates what would happen if he dropped the torch in his hands. Maliciously, his eyes turn hard as he drops his arm downward.   
“Dream.” George puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Dream jumps at the feeling of George’s touch, and he feels himself drop the flame by accident.  
Both their eyes go wide.   
Instantly, Dream wakes up from his daze. He tries hurriedly to brush away the sparks and realizes it's not working. His mind is a chorus of runs, run-aways. He grasps George’s arm tightly and rips his forwards as he begins sprinting down the corridor. “SAPNAP!” He screams.  
George runs as fast as he can, falling slightly behind Dream. They can see the outline of the door. George can feel the heat of the fire reaching him, burning the back of his heels, asking permission to take him the same as it took those before him.   
Dream rips George through the door and slams it shut just as they hear an ear splitting boom rip throughout the kingdom. Dream is pushed further into the room upon impact and he falls over George.  
He hears George screaming for help right before he senses his ears starting to ring. His back is burning, he sees blood on his arms. He lays covering George from the debris in the empty bunker, gritting his teeth, biting back any sort of feelings he might have had while holding onto that power. They feel timed vibrations beat heavily in the earth below them. He’s thankful George doesn’t have to see his pain from underneath his mask.   
George holds tightly onto his friend, his knuckles white as they grip Dream’s coat and he pushes his face into his chest. He sees a stream of blood coming out from Dream’s ears and squeezes his eyes shut before he loses consciousness.   
They wake in a pile of rubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyheyhey! did you like it? what do you think?? ok next chapter is gonna be back in the present so stay tuned! take caree <3


	4. The Wanderers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HeyHey! I'm back! finally finished with all the preface chapters, and this chapter's the beginning of the main plot hehe! the beginning of wilbur and niki arcs too (wilbur is 100% my favorite character so I'm so excited)
> 
> Song for this chapter:  
> "Out Like a Light" - The Honeysticks

Chapter Four- The Wanderers 

*present day*

George, Sapnap, and Dream spend most of their time building. Mainly they work on their base and cut down trees around where they plan to build their homes, priding themselves on how creative they imagined they were. Soon, the area had a small pathway that ran through the center, and it almost started to look like a real place in contrast to the shed they had been sleeping in. The large box-like house they made in the center of the lake began to feel like a new place. Sapnap had insisted it be in the middle of the lake, much to George’s discontent.  
Yet, the days of laying awake through the night in hunger ceased to end, and the boys continued to painstakingly construct as much as they could from sunup until sundown, gaining various sunburns and sore muscles in the process. For them though, it was fun. By creating a brand new world that was meant for just them, it eased them. They stopped their punchiness, began to push away the threads of anxiety laced into their structure, and felt themselves glimmer into a pool of new. Maybe it was a tactic of avoidance, but nonetheless they seemed happier.  
Things that had held them back before, the divisions of a people, weren’t here with them any longer. Though stuck within the tar of the demolition of the insides and outsides of the world, they grew giddy with newfound greed.  
After weeks of bickering, avoiding certain topics and flinching at the gentlest of touches, the boys got along better with each day. The strange power dynamics that laid between them seemed to disappear, and any small remnant of the guilt they might have had faded away as their new futures spanned into view. 

It was the first night that one of the wanderers came, that their malicious-like fun was brought to a stop, and feelings of familiar dread began to seethe back into their bones.  
Dream and George were sharpening their tools, Sapnap was sewing together a tarp that had ripped in the storm last week, the summer rains had been persistent this year.  
“H-hello?” A voice whispered from the woods. The boys’ heads snap up as they turn to look at each other, and they collectively freeze upon realizing the voice hadn’t come from one of them.  
Dream is the first to stand. His hands strangle for his mask, and his knuckles whiten around the tightened grip of his sword.  
A boy pops out through a clearing in the trees. The moment his wide twitching eyes set on the boys, he lets out a sigh of relief, dropping to his knees as tears brim his lashes. His face is littered with scratches and sores.  
Sapnap and George have now caught up, and they stand behind Dream’s arched back. Dream takes a step closer to the boy and shadows the tip of his sword to his throat.  
“Who are you?” His breath growls. There’s slight hesitation in the air, and even Sapnap and George sense the unfamiliar anger in Dream’s confidence.  
“My-my name is… well, I—I’m not quite sure.” The boy stutters, his face shrivels upon discovering his lack of self awareness.  
“What do you mean you aren’t sure?” Dream spits, pushing his sword in closer. A tiny bead of red drips from the sword, so faint and small that the boy doesn’t even notice the rage.  
George puts a hand on Dream’s shoulder, shoving him back slightly.  
“I—I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything.” The tears in the boy’s eyes start to sting, and his hands ball up onto his knees. His accent, he has a royal accent. George finds himself looking away, swallowing a lump.  
Dream feels a sense of power over the looks of the crying boy sitting at their feet. For a moment, he reconciles with the little boy he had been back then, the crying one sitting in the mounds dirt. Where had they been? He assures himself further as he distances himself from the memory.  
“Dream…” Sapnap starts, his voice uneven. “We should take him in.” His eyes span across the scrapes littered over the boy’s body. His eyes falter when he notices the covering of soot dusted over the shoulders of his clothes.  
Dream drops his sword down to his side, making a dramatic clambering before stepping away.

*

Wilbur wakes up in the woods. The floor beneath his hands is hard and crunches harshly as he shifts his weight, his entire body sore. He tries to remember what had happened, he remembers that something had happened. His ears focus on ringing.  
Slowly, he sits himself up. He’s covered in leaves and dirt, and his arms are scraped up and down. He can’t imagine what was going on, it feels as though he had been sleeping for decades. He rubs his forehead to find a charcoal like substance covering his skin. Had he died? He looks around to see if there’s anyone else there. That’s when he spots her.  
There’s a young girl laying down about seven feet away from where he sat. She was blonde. Her arm was draped across her head as if she was protecting herself from something unconsciously. He doesn’t recognize her right away.  
He stands and makes his way to her shakily. Was she dead? He doesn’t quite know what to do, should he wake her? Check for a pulse?  
He reaches out his hand to grab her shoulder and shakes gently. Her frame is small, and she appears to be just as beaten up as he is. He shakes her shoulder again and bolts backwards upon hearing her take a large gasp of air. Her eyes flutter open and adjust to the bright sun. She starts coughing.  
Now that he can see her face, he confirms that he definitely doesn’t know her, and he also concludes that the black soot that she’s covered in must be what he’s covered in as well.  
“Hello?” He starts awkwardly, not knowing what else he should say.  
“Do I know you?” The girl speaks, her voice comes out sweet but unsteady. Gravelly, yet angelic. The awkward atmosphere between them suddenly illuminates the feelings of loss and fear they share.  
“I, well, I don’t think so?” Wilbur says. “Do you know why we’re here?”  
“No. I can’t remember anything.” Her hand presses against her forehead and she winces.  
“Are you alright?” Wilbur asks.  
“Yeah, I just, everything just hurts for some reason.” She mumbles  
“Yeah… same here.”  
“What’s your name?”  
“I’m… not quite sure, I— it’s wil—wil-something? I don’t know why I can’t remember.”  
“I can’t remember what mine is either.”  
“What the hell happened to us?”  
“I don’t know, but something tells me we can’t stay here. We should move.” The girl suggests. “Maybe we can find someone that knows what’s going on.”  
“Yeah, that sounds good.” Wilbur nods his head and reaches for her hand to help her up. As his fingers grasp around hers, he suddenly gets a strange shock of energy whirling through his body. He winces and falls back slightly.  
“What? What’s wrong?” The girl asks frantically, looking downward at her hands in worry.  
“Your name.” Wilbur breathes through the sticky summer air. “Your name is Niki.”

*

“Well I certainly don’t know Sapnap, you think I’d know? I thought they all fucking died just like you asshole.” Dream spits out. They stand inside the house they had made together, taking a moment to speak privately about the people that kept appearing from the woods.  
George’s eyes fall to the window as he peers at nearly ten people now, all covered in soot and scrapes. All oblivious.  
“We- I. I thought we killed everybody.” George says in stunned disbelief, his eyes glued out the window blankly. “The explosion...it was all gone.” Suddenly, their terms came rushing back to them like a punch in the face. Within nearly seconds, they had reimbursed their old ways, full of bickering and anguish.  
“What the hell are we supposed to do? We can’t tell them, can we?” Sapnap suggests.  
“No. No, no way. We can’t tell them. Under any circumstance, we have to promise to never say a word.” Dream is clear, his eyes are cold. He points his finger accusingly at George. “Ok? Nothing.”  
George nods, “Ok.”  
“We say the same shit as them, ok? We don’t know anything either, we don’t remember.”  
“Yeah. Yeah, ok.” Sapnap agrees.  
“What are we supposed to do with them all? Do we just… let them stay?” George asks, his eyes move from the wall for the first time. He begins to consider that the world isn’t his anymore.  
“I don’t think there’s any other choice.” Dream sighs. “I mean we can’t just leave. We just have to make sure they never know.”  
“Yeah.” George says.  
Sapnap looks between the boys, focusing on their bitterness. He’s the first of them that thinks, maybe, something about this was all wrong. He looks down at his hands for a moment, opens and closes his palms, and imagines the guilt he might feel if he accepts that he’s a murderer.  
He stops. No, no. That’s not right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be soon! (its gonna be the start of the disc war so things are getting real lol) probably expect it to be out in a couple weeks :)
> 
> thank you for reading!! <3


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